


The Remarkable Account of Linda Schnell

by Sparrowjj



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparrowjj/pseuds/Sparrowjj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Linda Schnell works for the FBI's division of internal affairs.  When an agent she is investigating reveals a disturbing secret her life is changed forever.  A Welcome to Night Vale Fanfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Remarkable Account of Linda Schnell

This is an official record of the events that concern the life and times of the dangerous criminal Linda Schnell.  At the behest of the Sheriff’s Secret Police and a vague yet menacing government agency I have chronicled the events that led up to her arrival in Night Vale.  She was instrumental in the uprising of 2013 and what is now known as the Christmas Massacre.

 

* * *

 

Linda Schnell sat quietly in her office, staring listlessly at her computer screen.  Linda was a small but athletic woman, with hair that hung to the beginning of her shoulder blades, so blonde it appeared white.

Linda’s office was small and spartan.  There was a wooden desk with several folders piled to the left of her computer monitor.  There were no pictures, and the few books were all related to crime or criminals.

Linda worked in the J. Edgar Hoover building as an Internal Affairs agent for the FBI.  She’s made a name for herself early on in her career, helping to catch the notorious P. Williamton after she discovered connections between the former influential CEO and an agent whom she was investigating.  Then she helped to profile and catch serial killer Huson González after identifying moles he had in the bureau.

That isn’t to say that Linda only took on high profile cases.  Linda’s file was full of minor investigations into agents.  It was widely believed that Linda was likely to become the next director of Internal affairs.  It was part of the reason why the deputy director had a strong dislike for her.

John Raymond, the deputy director, was a tall man with cold, cruel eyes.  He was a harsh, patient man, but ultimately he was willing to go to any lengths to get the bad guy.  He often cast aside morals and, Linda suspected, laws to get the perp.  If any man in IA were to go bad Linda thought it would’ve been John Raymond.  Instead it had been her longtime partner Mason Carter.

Mason had been a kind man with warm eyes and a quick smile.  He gave freely, and was always willing to help.  He had actually saved Linda’s life, twice in fact.  Then, three weeks ago, it had happened.  Linda had been investigating an agent for months.  She found he was taking money for protecting various individuals targeted by the FBI.  She discovered in her investigation that this man had been depositing some seventy-five percent of his illicit earnings in the account of one Rosa Nosam.  Linda then learned that Rosa didn’t exist and that the money was going to two people.  With more diligent work she discovered that one of those two was Mason Carter.

It had been late and only Mason and herself had been in the office.  Linda got up to leave, intending to go to security.  Mason noticed her acting strangely.  When she left the room he got up to follow.  She’d realized Mason had drawn his sidearm, with a silencer attachment.  She’d dived around a corner.  Mason had followed and had seen her running down the hall.  He’d taken aim when several red marks appeared in his chest.  John Raymond had been in his office, blinds drawn, and neither Linda nor Carter had realized.  Mason fell, dead and John stood with gun in hand.

Linda, thoroughly shaken by both her inability to recognize the truth of Mason Carter and the ordeal she’d gone through.  Linda had taken three weeks off.  This was her first day back to work.  Her sister was staying with her in her little apartment.

Linda didn’t have any motivation to work, even to dig into who the second person receiving money from Rosa Nosam.  Linda was pretty sure that it had been given to someone else in the department anyway.  Could they be trusted?

Linda looked at the time displayed on her computer screen.  Her shift was done.  Linda got up and walked out of her small office, out of the Internal Affairs offices, and into the parking garage.

Linda got into her car.  That’s when she noticed a Manila envelope sitting in her passenger seat.  It was worth notice because she hadn’t left an envelope in her car and her doors had been locked.  Linda picked up the envelope and laid it in her backseat.  With that it slipped from her mind, no longer important.  The engine roared to life and Linda drove back to her apartment.

 

* * *

 

A man sat in a small room.  He wore dark pants with a white shirt.  He had a black suit coat over his shirt and a black tie.  He had black hair and merciless, dark eyes.

In front of him were a collection of a half dozen monitors.  There was a phone on the desk with the monitors.  It only dialed out to one number.  Behind the man was a door.

From somewhere beyond that door and down the hall came an unearthly scream that did not seem to affect the man.

He looked at the monitors, all of which currently featured the inside of Linda Schnell’s car.  He had watched her look at the envelope and throw it on to her backseat.  The man picked up a small leather bound journal and wrote in it for several moments, then he put it down again.

He picked up the phone and dialed that only number.  When the ringing stopped he said “She has received the envelope.”

“Then watch her even more carefully.”  The man hung up the phone and hit a few buttons on a keyboard.  The monitors changed to Linda’s apartment.  Her sister was lounging on the couch.

 

* * *

 

Linda walked through the doorway of her home.  Her sister was on the small, white couch, just big enough for two.  Linda’s home, like her office, was spartan.  All the furniture was plain and white.  Her bookshelf was full of best sellers.

Her sister, Olivia Schnell, turned in her seat to face her.

“How was work?”

“Fine.”  Linda said as she walked to her bedroom.  She quickly changed into more comfortable clothing and kneeled down next to her bed.  She removed a bo and lifted off the lid.  The box was full of books.  These were the books she cared about.  She’d never read one of those bestsellers, she didn’t really care about them.  The books on the shelf were a carefully calculated move by Linda to seem totally normal.  The box had the books she cared about.  There were books by King, and Lovecraft, and Dunsany, and Lumley, and Koontz, and Shelley, and Poe.

Presently she took the book she was reading, a King novel, and went out to join her sister on the couch.

Her sister was one of the few people in her life who knew of her secret obsession with the strange and the horrible.  Since she was young Linda had never enjoyed the stories of the white knight or the empowered heroine.  Linda had liked the ghost stories.  The stories about impossible, strange things.

Linda looked at what her sister was watching.  It was one of those silly, probably scripted, reality television shows where the woman goes on TV and finds her “true love”.  Linda, disregarding the foolish show, opened her book to the page with the marker in it.

“Do you want to talk?”  Linda did not respond to this statement, choosing to sit silently and read her book.  Her sister, who had spent days trying to get her to open up about what had happened with Mason Carter, let it pass.

Linda sat on the couch reading while her sister watched television until she was tired.  Linda went to her room, put her book back into the box, slipped out of her clothes, and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Linda awoke suddenly, but all was not as she remembered.  There was a strange black mold growing across the ceiling.  Linda stood and put on slippers.  When she opened the door she saw a hulking figure in the living room bent over a form the Linda felt certain was her sister.

The window shattered behind her.  Linda ran out of her room, past the large form, and out the door.  There was a man on the stairs.  A man with a gun and three eyes, one in the center of his forehead.  Linda turned and ran upwards, hoping to find some escape.

Eventually Linda emerged onto the roof of her apartment building.  What she saw horrified her.  It seemed that beings of shadow were destroying everything.  Linda watched a shadow figure that resembled the skeleton of some flying dinosaur in some museum she’d been in.

Linda saw a glow to the north and was certain that fires had broken out.  She looked at the ground.  Everything was chaos.  Men were fighting men, men were fighting shadow things, people were looting, and running, and shoving, and screaming.

Then in an instant everything changed.  The shadow creatures seemed to flee.  Linda became aware of some shape in the sky blotting out the stars.  Linda looked up and saw it.

She saw above her a planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible Titan, all thick black forests and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans. It was so desolate and so impossibly, terrifyingly dark.   Linda let out a wordless shriek of terror.

Some strange thought took hold of her.  Linda had to get away.  This thing, this awful, dark, monstrous place would destroy her if she looked at it any longer.  Linda turned and jumped off the ledge of the eighth story of her apartment building.  Linda had just enough time to realize all the people in the street below were gone.

 

* * *

 

Linda awoke with a start.  This time the room was exactly as she remembered it.  No dark mold.  No shadow creatures.  Linda rolled over and looked at the small digital alarm clock by her bedside.  It was six-o'clock in the morning.

Linda got up and got ready for work.  She was out the door by seven a.m..  Her sister was still asleep on the couch.  Linda walked out of her apartment, down the stairs, and to her car.

As Linda got into the car she glanced back and saw that mysterious envelope, still sitting on her back seat.  She tore her gaze away and started the car.

 

* * *

 

She sat in her office and stared at her computer.  She was about to make up her mind as to whether or not to request a new case when her door opened.

There stood tall and imposing John Raymond.  He stood there in the doorway, his cold eyes glowering at her.

“There’s a man, an agent, at the midcorp office building.  He’s taken a whole floor hostage.”

“Why are you telling me?  That’s a job for the CRI?”

John Raymond looked at her face, a sudden intensity in his eyes.  “His name is Brown.  Nate Brown.  He asked for you.”

“Nate Brown is holding an office hostage?  And he asked for me?”  Linda Schnell knew a Nate Brown, had worked with him on a couple occasions.  She couldn’t believe he was capable of this.

“Yes.”  Suddenly the normally harsh voice of John Raymond, a voice that expected obedience and competency, softened.  “I know you are still shaken after what happened with Carter but people will get hurt if you don’t go.”

“Why did he ask for me?”

“I don’t know.”  Linda looked Raymond in the eyes, searching for something there, anything, but she saw nothing.  There was no indication of a lie in his voice.

Linda stood up and walked past him, towards the parking garage.

 

* * *

 

She reached the offices of Midcorp a quarter of an hour later.  Outside the building was an array of people and vehicles ranging from press to local police to FBI members.  Linda approached a man from the CRI.

“I’m Linda Schnell.”

“The woman he asked for?”

“Yeah.”

“Go into the building and tell them who you are.  They’ll take you up.”

Linda did as the man instructed.  Soon she had exited the staircase and was on the third floor of the Midcorp offices five story building.  There were many agents of CRIG, all discussing the situation.  It was obvious no plan had been formed yet.

A man with a great and bushy mustache approached her.  His voice was gruff.  “You Linda Schnell?”  Linda nodded and showed him her I.D..

“Alright.”  He looked at her and saw her vest and sidearm.  “Okay I want you to go shout through the door.  Tell him who you are.”

Linda walked to the door.  It was what you’d expect, wood with a frosted glass frame that said “IT”.

“Nate?  Nate Brown?  If you can hear me, this is Linda Schnell.”

There came a thump from within the room and a shout in a rough voice, “Come into the room.  Just you.”

Linda looked at the officer in charge.  He nodded his head and said in a quiet voice “Keep radio contact.  Signal us if something goes wrong.”

With that Linda entered the office, entered into a hostage situation.  Nate Brown was crouching behind a desk, gun held to the head of a man tied hand and foot, with a gag.

“Linda.  Good to see you again.  You look good.”  Linda had no idea what to say, so she said nothing.  Nate stood up from behind the desk, gun still fixed on his prisoner.

“Do you know why I have to do this?”

“You don’t have to do this Nate.  Let these people go and we can help you.  I can help you.”

A smile flashed across Nate’s face.  “Help me?  They’ll kill me.  That is if your people don’t kill me first.”

“If you let these people go it won’t come to that.”

Nate pointed at her with his free hand.  Linda noticed he was holding something small and reflective in that hand.  “I can’t escape them.  The dark ones.  The clones.  The mutations!  The war crimes!  I know everything, Linda.  I know all of your governments darkest secrets.”

“Nate, why did you ask for me?”

“They told me to.”

Nate suddenly muttered something about “Dark Ones”.  Then he jerked, his whole body spasming.  Whatever he had been holding flew from his hand to land by Linda’s feet.  Then his chest exploded in a spray of blood and gore.

Linda stared dumbfounded at the body.  She looked down and saw a key by her feet.  Nate had been holding it.  Against all the rules and regulations she knew, Linda bent down and put it in her pocket.

As soon as the key was safely away it was like Linda had woken from a trance.  She looked again at Nate then she grabbed her radio.

“Why didn’t you warn me!”

The voice of the lead officer responded “Warn you about what?”

“Warn me about...you mean you don’t know?”  It occurred to Linda that this room had no windows.  “It’s Nate.  He’s dead.”

“What?  How?  We’re coming in.”

“The door banged open.  None of the officers could believe what they were seeing.  Nate looked like a bomb had gone off in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Linda drove back to the J. Edgar Hoover building.  She parked and turned off the engine when she remembered the envelope.  A sudden sense of dread filled her.  She took the envelope and released the clasps that kept it sealed.

Inside was a single sheet of eight by eleven printer paper.  It was plain and white with the words “The key goes to locker 4215”.  Linda turned over the paper “The password is Obsidian.”  Linda panicked.  This envelope was put into her car a day before Nate Brown took this key and held an office full of people hostage.

Linda folded up the paper and put in a pants pocket.  She went into the building and to the Internal Affairs offices.  She had just entered into her own office when the director of Internal Affairs came to the door.

“Linda listen, I heard about Nate Brown.  That must’ve been hard.”  She’d hardly known Nate.  He meant that it must’ve been hard after Mason Carter had tried to kill her three weeks ago.

Linda sat back in her office, nerves shaken.  She’d vomited, but not thought to clean up the blood spattered on her.  She’d thought Nate Brown to be a good man too, and now he was dead, a kidnapper.

The door to her office opened and in stepped the director of Internal Affairs.  Omar Cook was a large black man.  Once physically fit he’d developed a massive gut after he started dealing less with criminals and more with bureaucrats.  Today he looked tired and beaten.

“Take some time off Schnell.  After all you’ve been through in the last month you should go somewhere.  The bahamas maybe.”

“No.  This was totally out of character for Nate Brown.  I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“I’ve already put other agents on it.  Go home.”

“No I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Boss, I’ve gotta stay around, I’ve got to answer questions.”

“Did you give them a full account of your conversation with him?”  She nodded an affirmative.  “Then it’s fine.  Go home and get some rest.”

“I’ve got to meet with the psychiatrist.”

“I can hold him off for a while.”

Linda wanted to fight but instead she dejectedly said “Yes, sir.”

 

* * *

 

Linda was nearly to the parking garage when she remembered the key.  She went to the elevators and typed in a clearance code for a sub-basement.  When the doors opened Linda walked to locker 4215 and unlocked it.

Inside was a black box with Linda recognized as a computer.  She took the computer and put it into her bag.  After that she went home.

 

* * *

 

Linda walked through the door to her apartment.  Without so much as a hello to her sister she sat down on the couch and took out the computer.  When she flipped open the lid and hit the power button she found a screen that said Password with a text box underneath it.  

“What...What happened?”  Linda looked at her sister and realized her shirt was still covered with blood.

“I’ll tell you later.”

Linda entered “Obsidian” on the computer.  On this little box were records of truly revolting things.  Linda learned of deranged genetic experiments on unwilling participants.  Drugs developed to drive people insane.  Disturbing plans for eugenics-like practices.  All carried out by the US government.  Linda felt sick.  Some of the files dated back to the 1940’s but others were recent, some within the last year.  Some of the files spoke of a place, Nightvale.

Linda got up and went to her bedroom.  She took off her blood spattered shirt and put on a fresh one.  For reasons she wasn’t quite sure of she put the computer into her purse.

“Come on, I want a drink.”

Olivia silently agreed, following her out of the apartment.  When they opened the door they found the street empty, except for one black vehicle that looked like the presidents own Cadillac One, with a few differences.  A man stood by the door.  Unbeknownst to Linda Schnell this was the same man who had been watching her.  Suddenly he raised a pistol with a silencer and shot Olivia once in the chest.  Linda didn’t have time to react.  The man reached her and pressed a rag to her mouth.  The world turned black.  For one moment Linda thought she saw a great lightless world above her, full of dark beings.

 

* * *

 

Linda was dragged into the vehicle.  This car was designed to be a prison.  Those in the back seat could not get out unless the driver wished it.

The car drove for hours.  Linda awoke.  She could see out the window.  It looked like she was in a desert.

The vehicle came to a stop.  The driver opened her door.

“Where’s Olivia?”  Olivia had been picked up by the man and thrown into the trunk but Linda didn’t know that.

He said nothing.  She exited the vehicle.  The man reached in and took her purse.  He took out the computer and tossed it into the backseat.  He closed the door.

The man said his only words to her.  He stretched his hand toward what appeared to be a town in the distance.

“Welcome to Nightvale.”

He then indicated with a gesture that Linda should walk towards the town.

The man took out a phone and listened for a moment.  He took out a small button from a coat pocket.  He pressed it.  The vehicle exploded and so too, although Linda didn’t know this, did his small room in the bowels of the Hoover Building.  He then took out his gun and raised it to his head.  Linda turned away but she still heard the shot.

Suddenly a man was standing by her.  He appeared to be a native american wearing a plastic Indian headdress.  He gave her a strange smile and said something in a language Linda Schnell didn’t know.  Linda turned to trudge towards the town.


End file.
